


Early one morning.

by Xbertyx



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Death, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xbertyx/pseuds/Xbertyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric felt like Alan was looking down on him, making sure he was okay. That thought comforted him greatly, even after a year of being left on earth, without Alan by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piona play.

 Almost year had passed since Alan had been taken from him, ripped from him by the only illness that could befall a reaper. Eric missed him greatly, though he always felt like Alan was watching over him. Somehow, from the heavens above.

\---

 The first anniversary was much harder than Eric thought it would be, seeming to be a constant reminder of death and loss. He found himself sobbing on the grass of Alan’s grave. “Why did it ‘ave ta’ be like this, Al? Why did … ya’ ‘ave ta’ leave me?”

 After an hour spent like this, he wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself. “But ya’ wouldn’t wanna’ see me in such a state, would ya’?” He smiled softly. “I’ll always love ya’, so much.”

\---

 From that moment, things began to change. Alan’s presence seemed stronger in the house. Eric was sure he was going mad, feeling as if Alan was right next to him. The house seemed less empty somehow.

 As the weeks passed, things became stranger. Items would move around the house, Eric was sure of it. He had kept everything just where it was from the time Alan was alive. But now items special to the deceased weren’t where he thought he had left them.

 The books left on Alan’s bedside table, ones he had never finished reading, had been put back on the bookshelf in the living room. The macabre doll that Grell had made Alan one Christmas ended up in the hallway, not in its rightful place on Alan’s pillow.

\---

 The months dragged on and one day, as Eric entered the house, he heard the piano playing. That piano that Alan adored. The house had been too quiet the past year, deafeningly silent. Then he heard singing.

_“Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a young maiden, in the valley below. Oh, don't deceive me, oh, never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?”_

 Eric stood frozen. That was Alan’s voice, soft and beautiful as it had always been. That had been Alan’s favorite song. Finally, he came back to his senses and ran to the living room. As the entered, the music stopped playing and Eric was left to feel even more insane that he already felt.

 This happened countless times over the next month, the blonde never being able to see if the piano was actually playing or not. Never getting there on time. As well as this, he felt drained. His mind was constantly focused on Alan, as well as the disturbances in the house.

\---

 Then six months later, he came downstairs one morning and his reality seemed to slip more. There was a figure standing before him, dressed in just an oversized T-shirt, white and cutting them mid-thigh. Light bounced through the figure but Eric could make out the shape of them, the face and the brilliantly bright eyes.

 He stared for a while, before speaking “Alan?”


	2. But you didn't move on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crying over this. Such a baby, aha!
> 
> Ya' and you are interchanged for a reason.

 “Alan?” The figure nodded, lips curling into a small smile. As beautiful as it once was. “But how … how are ya’ here?” Eric moved forward, hand rising up to cup the figure’s cheek. His hand passed straight through and he pulled back in shock.

 “Let me try instead.” The figure said softly. Eric shut his eyes and nodded, basking in the loveliness of that heavenly voice. He felt something pass through him, not icy but not warm either. It was a strange sort of tingle, one which could not be described by words. Looking down, he saw the figure withdraw its arm from him, before trying again. A palm pressed softly against his chest and the figure smiled. “Heart beat is as strong as ever, Eric.”

 Eric’s hand was placed atop of the figure’s and suddenly he felt his energy drop. “Is it … really you?”

 “It is.”

 “But why now … why am I seeing ya’ now?”

 Alan looked up at him, sadness in his eyes. “Because ... I wanted you to move on. I thought you would … but you didn’t.”

 “So … ‘ave ya’ been here since day one?”

 “I have. Though you could never see me. I couldn’t even see myself until recently. That’s why you’ve been feeling tired. I had to use your life force to appear in a psychical form.”

 “Then why didn’t ya’ jus' do tha’ from day one?”

 Alan bit his lip, before speaking again. “Like I said … I thought you would move on. But that one year anniversary, well … you just looked so sad.”

 “Obviously. I’ll never be able ta’ move on.”

 “That’s what I began to realise. I’ve been following you around everywhere since the day I died. I wanted to see you happy but you weren’t. So I started to try to move objects and play the piano, before finally coming to see you.”

 Eric nodded. Had feeling like Alan was watching over him been true all along? “But tha’ doesn’t make any sense. Why are ya’ dressed like tha’? Ya’ didn’t die in those clothes.”

 “I like this top of yours. You know that.”

 “My top?”

 Alan giggled. “Can’t you tell? It looks more solid than the rest of me. It was quite a task in trying to get it on, I can tell you that.”

 Eric pulled back from the figure. “No! No … I’m jus’ imagine things. Ya’ not really here. Ya’ can’t be! Ya’ died … you are dead!”

 “I am very real.” The figure moved forward again, wrapped their arms around Eric and leaning carefully against his chest, careful to not fall through him.

 “No! I’m losin’ it!”

 “Shhhh. I know it’s a lot to take in but please calm down.”

 “How calm I calm-.”

 A gentle sound mingled in the air and within an instant, Eric felt himself beginning to calm. “Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a young maiden, in the valley below. Oh, don't deceive me, oh, never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?”

 Eric screwed his eyes shut, preventing the tears from falling. “Dammit, Al. Ya’ always did know exactly wha’ ta’ do ta’ calm me down. It really is you.”

 “Really, really. I’m never leaving you again.”

 Eric didn’t reply, instead sobs of joy slipping from him as he felt his energy deplete further and the ghost of the man he loved becoming more solid against him. Alan looked up at him, lifting his head to kiss him. Eric lost himself in the deep caress of lips, the happy tears still falling, as he held Alan tightly in an embrace against him.

 _I remember those lips, as soft as tissue paper._ It’s _been far too long._

**Author's Note:**

> If Dance4thedead doesn't get this reference I will lose all hope aha.


End file.
